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, the poet is richard blanco, born in spain to cuban exiles to emigrated to this country, the first latino and first openly gay inaugural poet. today, we spoke to him about his connection to president obama and here's part of what he had to say, in his own words. >> the connection to the inaugural's very theme of our people, our future, to me, symbolizes the salt of the earth that was my family. you know, that their hard work, that we are all in this together, that it takes -- it takes a village kind of feeling. and so, that theme i identified by a lot. part of the life story that always resonated with me. i can imagine him as a child sort of having to negotiate some very important cultural questions as well as i have had as a cuban-american and that whole question of where do i belong? you know, what's home? the sense of the support of the family and that idea that our parents always wanted us, my brother and i, to always do better than them. i will never forget that speech at the convention, we are one america, and that made me feel so much like i was one of those ones. and even though m
la bendicin... otro fue el poeta, richard blanco... en su poema, acentu las puertas que abrimos los unos a los otros con un simple saludo... exhortando a la union y no al distanciamient o indudablemente un da histrico... comenz con largas filas de quienes apostaron por ser testigos de la historia el escrutinio al que fueron sometidos no pareci impedirles estar aqui... todos con la esperanza de sentirse cerca de ese presidente americano que seguir en la casa blanca 4 aÑos mas cesar ---precisamente en el marco de su segunda toma de posesion y del dia de martin luther king que se conmemora hoy, el presidente obama insto a las personas a participar en un dia de servicio comunitario. ---pilar niÑo nos cuenta porque esto fue significativo para una escuela de oakland que esta lidiando con las secuelas de la violencia. take pkg 0:01 0:07 :47 :59 1:48 2:09 take pkg 23:05 asi y es que esta escuela ha sido golpeada de cerca por la violencia por lo que buscan caminos para crear paz23:11 15:42 en la jardineria en la jardineria...o limpiando y ordenando su escuela. asi pasaron hoy el dia estudi
by justice sotomayor. at noon, the inaugural address and the inaugural poem by richard blanco. at 12:30, the benediction. as we speak, president obama is about to step outside onto the west front of the capital. we are joined by clarence lusane, author of "the black history of the white house." professor at american university here in washington, d.c., professor of international relations. this book goes beyond the white house. it also talks about the capital, talks about those who built these institutions, physically. many of them enslaved. >> this is an important history. in fact, the capitol has now demolished the slave labor that went into building that building. there are two plaques, one in the main hallway, one on the house side. there is nothing in the white house that a knowledge as that. if you go on a tour, now self- guided, you can go through the blue room, the other important rooms in the white house, but there is nothing that tells you where the slave quarters were, where people lived in the basement, for example, during the period of slavery. so there is the need for t
. ♪ [ music ] ♪ [ applause ] . >> wow. our next distinguished guest is the poet richard blanco who will share words which he has composed for this occasion. [ applause ] . >> mr. president, mr. vice president, america, one today. one sun rose on us today. kindled over our shores, weeking over the smokeys, greeting the faces of the great lakes, spreading a simple truth across the great plains and charging across the rockies. one light, waking up roof tops, under each one a story told by our sielent guess pictures moving across windows. my face, your face, millions of faces in morning. each one yawning to life. the pencilled yellow school buses, the ritd yum of traffic lights. frutd fants p stants, wines, orange and begging our praise. silver trucks, heavy with oils or paper, bricks or milk. teaming over highways along side us. on our way. to clean tables, reed ledgers, or save lives, to teach go traechl or ring up greeshryes as my mother did -- groceries as my mother did for 20 years so i could write this poem for all of us today. all of us, as vital as the one light we move through. the same
wow moment there, diane, kelly clarkson. >> our next distinguished guest is the poet, richard blanco, who will share with us words he has composed for this occasion. >> mr. president, mr. vice president, america, one today, one sun rose on us today, kindles over our shores, peeking over the smoky, greeting the faces of the great lakes, spreading a simple truth across the great plains and charging across the rockies. one light waking up rooftops, under each one a story told by our silent gestures moving across windows, my faith, your face, millions of faces in morning's mirrors, each one yawning to life crescendoing into our day, the pencilled yellow school buses, the rhythm of traffic lights, fruit stand, apples, limes and oranges arranged like rainbows begging our praise, silver trucks heavy with oil or paper, bricks or milk, teeming over highways alongside us in our way to clean tables, read ledgers or save lives, to teach geometry or ring up groceries as my mother did for 20 years so i could write this poem for all of us today. all of us, as vital as the one light we move through,
distinguished guest is the poet richard blanco who will share with us words he has composed for this occasion. [ applause ] >> mr. president, mr. vice president, america won today. one sun rose on us today, creeping over our shores, greeting the faces of the great lakes, spreading a simple truth across the great plains and charging across the rockies. one light waking up rooftops, under each one a story told by our silent gestures moving across windows. my faith, your faith, millions of faces in morning's mirrors, each one yawning to life, crescendoing to our day. the school buses, rhythms of traffic lights, fruit stands, oranges, begging our praise. silver trucks heavy with oil or paper, bricks or milk teaming over highways alongside us on our way to clean tables, read ledgers or save lives. to teach geometry or ring up groceries as my mother did for 20 years so i could write this poem for all of us today. all of us, as vital as the one light we move through, the same light on blackboards with lessons for the day, equations to solve, history to question or atoms imagined. the i have a dream
Search Results 0 to 5 of about 6